Itch
by Scribe Figaro
Summary: Inuyasha swore to protect Kagome before knowing what dangers his world directed toward a girl like her. He's beginning to learn, and it's a painful lesson. After a close call with Sango, Inuyasha and Miroku reflect on the dangers of men and youkai.


**ITCH**

by Scribe Figaro

"_To me  
Coming from you  
Friend  
Is a four-letter word"  
- Cake_

Inuyasha did not care for drugs.

He did not care much for magic, or the healing arts, and he did not know or care what plants could heal and what plants could kill. Sango knew, most likely, and if he asked she would tell him all the things that were in her smoke bombs, the way to make the powders and explosives that have caught him off guard more than once. He knew they came from plants. He knew that because he had seen Sango more than once stray from camp on warm nights, and return some minutes or hours later with a handful of leaves, or a few flowers, or bits of bark and root. Inuyasha was not sure how she found such things in the dead of night, but he imagined she had some taiji-ya skill that made her better than most humans at seeking them out.

Inuyasha never saw her prepare these poisons, and he suspected this was deliberate. Either she did not want him to see her prepare things that were meant to kill him and those like him, or she did not want to make him ill with the stink they made.

Inuyasha did not ask, because he did not care for such things.

The smoke-bombs, bad as they were, did not bother him greatly. They were loud and obvious things, a distraction at best, and did little more than force him to redirect an attack, if even that.

What bothered him were the more subtle things. Poisons that had no smell or taste. Things put in your food, in your drink, in the air right before your face. Things that get inside you without you being aware. Things that kill your body, or kill your mind.

It was this sort of poison that made him fail to protect the woman he had promised to protect.

The mosquito-youkai had filled the air with something sweet. Time went slow, and very wrong, and after hours and years and centuries of stumbling on his feet, he knew nothing was real, that he was dreaming, and he was tired, and he forgot that he was supposed to protect Sango.

Even though he forgot Sango, he tried to follow her, but the ground curled up around him, and he was lying on his back, and he forgot which way to go, and why he should have to go there.

He closed his eyes, and his head hurt.

Now, Sango was safe. The youkai was taken care of, and Inuyasha could sit in the crook of this tree, let one leg dangle idly off the branch, hands behind his head, and wonder what would have happened if it had been Kagome instead of Sango, and if it had been Naraku instead of a creepy, but otherwise harmless, mosquito-youkai.

Inuyasha didn't realize he was hiding until he felt his stomach clench, just the smallest bit, and he realized it was because he had heard the jangling of the monk's shakujou.

Hiding probably wasn't the right word. Avoiding, perhaps. He wasn't certain why. It wasn't like he was afraid. But he knew there would be questions. Complicated questions. He didn't like complicated questions.

Silence. The monk had stopped. Inuyasha's ears quivered, anticipating the recurrence of the monk's signature, the sound he had grown rather familiar with, and even found somewhat melodic, even soothing, in his travels. He was as familiar with the ringing bronze hoops as he was with the sound of the hard body of Hiraikotsu bumping softly against Sango's back in tune with her gait, or Kirara's purr-like breathing, or Shippou softly chewing something sweet, or Kagome's skirt swishing along her thigh with every step.

To hear the rings suddenly arrested was a little jarring.

"What happened, Inuyasha?"

The monk could be quiet when he needed to be. How he managed to move a hundred paces without a sound, in a matter of seconds, was a bit of a mystery. Inuyasha turned to his left, his chin against his shoulder, and regarded him blankly.

"We agreed to split up." Miroku stated, his face unreadable. "For the first time in a long while, it was Kagome and me, and it was you and Sango. I did not need to be told that I was to protect Kagome. I would protect her with my life. I should not have needed to ask you the same thing for Sango."

The ring of the shakujou was disjointed, sounding for only an instant, from the slightest vibrations of Miroku's hand as he clenched the staff tightly.

"So tell me, Inuyasha. Tell me why I found her stunned and half-naked in the arms of a demon."

She hadn't been half-naked. That was blatant exaggeration. Her uniform had been unbuttoned. The sash that held her shoulder-plate might have been slipped down her arm a bit. Perhaps the demon had touched her hair, or her face. He might have. Hard to say. But she wasn't undressed. No flesh exposed, save the bit that came open when she unbuttoned her collar. He probably hadn't fondled her.

Miroku was waiting for an answer.

"It's complicated," Inuyasha said. He hoped that would buy him some time, or allow him to meander a bit, and hopefully get Miroku to talk. Miroku might still ask questions, but maybe he'd just ask the sort of questions where he wasn't really expecting answers. Inuyasha had no answers.

"Then explain," Miroku said. "Explain it very carefully."

Inuyasha remembered that he was very bad at conversations, and he would not be steering this one anywhere.

"Keh," Inuyasha said, realizing as he said it, even before he said it, that it would not be received well.

"Inuyasha."

Inuyasha grimaced.

"I fell into a trap, all right? Some sort of drug, or scent. Something stupid. I tried to fight it, and held Sango back for a little bit, but she resisted, and I was too messed up to fight with her. By the time I figured out what the hell happened, it was too late. What do you want from me, an apology?"

Miroku did not reply. No, he did not want an apology.

"I want . . . what I want is to have some assurance, some comfort, some _guarantee_ that nothing like this will ever happen again. I want you to tell me something that will allow me to sleep peacefully."

_Welcome to my world, Monk. When do you think I had my last real, restful sleep? Actually sleeping deeply, and not just hovering at the edge of wakefulness, always listening, always ready to leap and strike at the slightest sound, a scream, a worried whisper or a catch in her breath? _

"I would have died to protect Kagome. If she was entranced, I would have restrained her. If the demon had come for her, and I was too stunned to fight, I would lie atop her and protect her with my body. Not because she is precious to you. Not because she is precious to me. But because she is precious. I would do the same for Shippou. I would do much, much more for Sango."

Inuyasha would never do such a thing. Not because he was a coward. But because such a plan was stupid. To be a living shield would merely delay an attacker for a single strike, if even that. Inuyasha would not die to save Kagome if he could live to save Kagome. He could die to save her only once. He could live to save her many, many times. He would bear injury for her. He would bleed a river. But he would not allow himself to be killed. Not without assurance that his death would be a mutual slaying. He would do many things for Kagome, but never, not even for her, would he die anyplace but on his feet.

"She wasn't hurt." Inuyasha said. "And it's not like that mosquito demon did anything worse than what you usually do to her."

Inuyasha's rather constant and – he thought – fully justified criticism of Miroku's behavior around Sango was so familiar to him that it took him a second to realize that, perhaps, there was a time and place for such a thing, and that time was not now, and that place was not here.

The place he was sitting right now was not really good for anything at this moment, really, for as Inuyasha lifted his feet away from the arc of the monk's swinging shakujou, the ornamental head struck the tree branch very near the trunk and splintered it to pieces. Inuyasha tried to jump, but the now-falling tree branch he was lying upon gave him no leverage, and he acquiesced to falling, and became comfortable with the general idea of falling, and managed to roll rather well in contact with the ground. He stood quickly and took a characteristic aloof-yet-secretly-confrontational posture.

But Miroku was not looking at him. His eyes were focused on the fallen branch, and then the broken limb from which it came.

"I have hurt a living thing," Miroku said, so lightly murmured that even with his rather exceptional hearing, Inuyasha was not totally certain he had heard correctly.

"Miroku?"

Miroku was not talking to him either. But he was talking.

"She was helpless. She could have been raped. That was the thought on my mind when I first found her. This thought does not leave me. I close my eyes, I try to meditate. I breathe in, and I think: She could have been raped. I breathe out, and I think: There was nothing I could have done to save her."

Rape. Inuyasha turned the word over in his head. It was enough dealing with creatures that merely wanted to kill, to destroy, and to consume. But to violate? Such creatures were rare, or so Inuyasha hoped. He did not like thinking that there were ways of hurting Kagome that Kaede's medicines could not heal.

Some time passed, the two of them standing still. A cool wind blew, and somehow Inuyasha was prompted to ask a question, one he knew he had no right to ask.

"What would that mean, Miroku?"

"Inuyasha?"

"This thing between you and Sango. Would that be the end of it? If she was . . ." He searched for the word, wincing upon finding it, wincing upon saying it. "If she was ruined."

"She cannot be ruined, Inuyasha. Women cannot be ruined."

"But if she was hurt that way. It would change things, wouldn't it?"

Miroku closed his eyes a moment, composing his thoughts. When he opened them, he held the expression of one who was looking, but not seeing, as one who thinks too deeply and tends to sink inside himself. Miroku sported that look too often, Inuyasha thought.

"Any terrible event changes people. But the ordeals we suffer do not destroy us; they often help define us. If she was hurt in this way, I would comfort her as best as I could, but she would have to heal on her own terms. I know that she would survive, because she is strong. I know that I would not leave her, for I love her too greatly. All else is detail."

"Can I ask you . . . a personal thing, Miroku?"

He nodded.

"You don't care if she is pure?"

Miroku pressed a hand against the tree.

"Of course I care. I would want to know everything about her. And yes, there is some part of me – a selfish part, really – that desires to be her first. But if I find that she has given that honor to someone else – willingly, of course – then I would not hold it against her. It is an important thing to me by itself, but when held up against my desire to have her in my life, it is a very trivial thing. And of course, if such a thing has been taken from her, unwillingly, I would make peace with that, as she no doubt would have made peace with it herself."

"I'd kill him," Inuyasha said. "If something like that happened, and I found out."

"That is your way, Inuyasha."

"Since we've met," Inuyasha said, "you've never killed a man. Plenty of youkai, but you always go out of your way to keep from killing men. So does Sango."

"There are a few vows I keep," Miroku said. "And this one I have not broken for more than three years: I do not kill."

"You kill youkai," Inuyasha said.

"There are youkai which should be in this world, and youkai which should not be in this world. Those in the first group I do not interfere with. Those in the latter group I simply return to the realm where the order of things dictates they must go."

"Hell," Inuyasha said.

"If their karma demands it, yes. At which time, I pray they be at peace, and suffer their punishment, so that they may be reborn to a better realm. But of course, all that is beyond my influence; my seals and spells are at best a request that any particular evil spirit is taken away to a place where it can be in less misery."

"And if you tried one of those on me?" Inuyasha asked.

"I could not send you to Hell, as you are not an evil spirit. My seals would not be honored. My spells and houriki can stun and harm you, but not much else."

"What about men?"

"This is the human realm. There is no where else a man can be, so long as he is alive. As such, my sealing scrolls have almost no effect on humans, no matter how much evil they may have in their hearts."

"Even the ones that hurt women?"

"Yes, Inuyasha. Even them."

"I think you're wrong," Inuyasha said. "I know you're wrong. Such men deserve to die."

"That is what you believe," Miroku said.

"All of them," Inuyasha said.

"Inuyasha."

So rarely did Miroku take a comforting tone with him that Inuyasha was stunned into silence, and out of the rage that he was starting to drive himself into.

"Kagome is safe," Miroku said. "Sango is safe. We will protect them as best we can. There is no assurance we will succeed, but we will try. We should not worry about things which have not happened, and in all likelihood, will never happen."

"Yeah," Inuyasha said. "Yeah, I know."

"And I suppose I should take my own advice," Miroku added, under his breath. "I apologize for confronting you like this. I don't hold you responsible for any of what happened. I'm sorry I acted as if that were the case."

"Keh."

Nodding slightly, Miroku turned.

"Please don't tell Sango I worried about this."

"Miroku?"

"Ah?"

"You'd do it, wouldn't you?"

"Do what?"

"Kill a man."

"If?"

"If it was Sango. If it really happened."

"I can't predict such a thing, Inuyasha."

"You don't need to guess. You know."

"Inuyasha."

"Don't bullshit me. You know."

Miroku nodded.

"If . . . if she was hurt so badly . . . if someone changed her for the worse . . . yes, Inuyasha. I would break my vows. And I would ensure he took a very long time to die."

Miroku sighed.

"I need to meditate."

He shook his head.

"No. I need a drink. Do you drink, Inuyasha?"

"No."

"Good, I'll teach you."

"Miroku."

"I have a bottle of sake I've been hiding. If we get caught, it would look better if you were drinking too."

"I don't care for that crap."

"It's Ramen sake."

Inuyasha's ears quivered.

"There's no such thing."

"You're suddenly a sake expert, Inuyasha?"

"You better not be lying."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

Miroku began walking, and Inuyasha followed.

"I'm serious, Miroku. If you _lie_ about _Ramen_ . . ."

Inuyasha decided the drink did not taste much like Ramen, but after winning a few games of mushi-ken he decided to let the offense pass.

Sake was acceptable at times.

Inuyasha still did not care for drugs.

**Author's Notes and SPOILERS:**

In a two-chapter (357-358) throwaway arc, Sango is entranced and kidnapped by a seductive vampire-like youkai. Luckily, it's a mosquito-youkai so all he wants is a tiny bit of blood. It's pretty much the closeset Sango has been to a damsel in distress. Unlike Kagome, of course, she repeatedly breaks the trance, beats the hell out of the guy at whim, and basically seems more in control of the situation than the kidnapper himself.

Anyway, Miroku makes some reasonable assumptions and is reasonably upset by the incident, though he appears to shrug it off. Humor throughout the story defuses a lot of the tension.

This doesn't happen in the anime, unfortunately.

Anyway, I found this in my fanfic directory. Looks like I wrote it six months ago and never posted it on though I did post it on my livejournal for some reason.

"There Was a Ship" annoys me, but this story reassures me that I'm not too much of a creep show, and I can write mature themes in a serious manner. I think.

Anyway, hoped you like it. It's fun getting into Miroku's head.


End file.
